


She can’t sleep

by dutchbuffy



Series: Scenes from Season 7 [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-09 18:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11110359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchbuffy/pseuds/dutchbuffy
Summary: Buffy can’t sleep.Timeline: Season 7, after LessonsSpoilers: Lessons





	She can’t sleep

Buffy couldn't sleep. When she'd gone to bed, she'd been tired but happy: for that day, at least, the monsters had been vanquished, and order restored. The questions that remained needn't be answered immediately, and she had a job, a non-menial, interesting job! All ingredients for a well-deserved rest were there.

But of course, there was a blot on that small enough measure of contentment. A pitiful, quivering blot. She turned over, searching in vain for a cool place on her pillow. Why think about Spike at all? Not her responsibility, right? God, what a mess he'd been! His hair a riot of unbleached curls (actually that had looked quite inviting), the gashes on his chest, the look in his eyes, the babbling, the crazy laughter. She was torn between pity and revulsion. 

In fact, both emotions were equally damaging for her remaining feelings for the neutered vampire. One of his main attractions had in large measure been his very evil undead soulless-ness. All other players in her life had feelings and expectations she had to be careful of, that she felt largely responsible for. Spike had been someone who was just there; his feelings didn’t count, and physically he could take anything she could dish out. It had been a wonderful release to vent all the frustrations and pent-up anger towards the others on him, knowing it made no difference anyway.

When she had finally become convinced his feelings for her were real, and that she had in fact been using him, she'd immediately ended their…relationship. God, what had she said? That she'd 'dated' him? Understatement of the month! Describing it that way did make it easier to think about. She'd dated a guy (okay, a dead guy, but that really wasn’t relevant, was it?), and she'd broken up with him. End of relationship, end of responsibility. Right?

She threw the covers off her restless body and tried to cool down. She really didn't need another emotional ball and chain. One more to feel guilty about. It wasn’t as if she had a part in his decision to leave! She didn't know what disturbed him so. She didn't want to know! He wasn't remotely attractive when he was so pitiful, rather the opposite. She lost herself in a reverie of what she'd liked about him: his cockiness, his bad boy attitude, the snarky, sexy Spike-ness, physically a worthy opponent…His beauty - well, he still had that…

Buffy got out of bed and opened her closet. Behind her summer clothes it had been hanging, hidden, for the past four months: his black leather duster. She took it out and sat back on her bed, wrapping the age-softened leather about herself. It still smelled so much of him: tobacco, bourbon, Spike-smell, blood…and a whiff of the perfume she'd used last winter. Suddenly tears were running down her cheeks. Not for Spike, exactly, more for herself, for lost opportunities, lost innocence…

She didn't know how she knew, but she was absolutely certain there would be no second chance. Spike was gone. Her bad, sexy boy was gone. The sad lost person in the basement was someone else, someone she didn't know, and was more than a little repulsed by. She wasn’t good with neediness. 

Buffy folded the coat carefully and went downstairs. She found a big plastic bag and put it in. Goodbye, Spike, she whispered. It was over.

END


End file.
